Winter Stand
by partofforever
Summary: Harry and Ron accidently (all right, maybe with some help of Firewhiskey) bring a Christmas disaster at Hogwarts. Will The Boy Who Lived spectacularly solve this problem and save Christmas? A winter story of Christmas in a long-forgotten time.


**~~Winter stand~~**

_Good winter, wrap us in white,_

_As every our moment hopes for awaking,_

_From old sorrows clean our sight,_

_As we have to go together, the far road is waiting._

_And may the time of grace be bright._

Czeslaw Milosz

"Do you really think this will work?"

"What can possibly go wrong?"

Harry looked at Ronald Weasley – his best friend after all - with some doubt. He tried to remember if Ron ever came up with something equally crazy and inventive and if that something worked. For unknown reasons the only thing that came to his mind was the Department of Mysteries and Ron deciding that befriending some deadly brains is the greates idea ever. But did he even have a choice now?

"Harry, you've already traveled through time! You should only remember that nobody can see you, when you are there!" The red-haired Gryffindor seemed all too delighted with his own ingenuity. "Hurry up, we don't know when Hermione realizes that her time turner is missing!"

_You took it, so why I have to do it?_, Harry sighed inwardly, but deep down he knew that Ron is trying his best to help. Well, after all they both contributed to wrecking Christmas at Hogwarts. Hopefully there was still time to undo the wrongs.

Why did they even come here? Yes, Hermione clearly invited them because she thought that it would be nice to spend Christmas together in the school one last time, even though only she decided to continue her education after the war. Harry was delighted by the idea – after all Hogwarts was his first real home and he had to admit that even his own new flat in London wasn't as comfortable and nice as Gryffindor's common room.

However his life wouldn't be _his_ life, if something haven't went wrong.

At first, when he appeared in Hogsmead with Ron, everything was going perfectly – they even went to the Three Broomsticks for some butterbeer, remembering how in the third grade Harry drank it under the table, sitting in his Invisibility Cloak. Ron was - as always - enchanted by Madame Rosmerta and Harry was thinking about Sirius, Remus and his father, looking at the outline of Shrieking Shack in the snow blizzard. And when they finally arrived at school it was all fine too. To time.

Hermione gave them password to the Gryffindor Tower (this time to celebrate the holidays it was "blizzard of the century") and she went to supervise decorationg of the Great Hall.

Harry and Ron _really_ wanted to help.

However, for an unknown reasons (well, maybe Firewhiskey, which Madame Rosmerta offered them at their parting, had something to do with it) instead of hanging baubles, lights and chains on all the Christmas trees in the school, not only did they smash at least half of them, but also turned the remaining ones into Pixies of extremely destructive temper. Although dealing with the Pixies itself wasn't very pleasant and in addition it brought to Harry's mind the traumatic experiences of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class in the second grade, the worst part of it all was that they destroyed each and every one of Christmas glass balls and trees decorations in the entire school.

Hermione was furious and has already promised that she won't talk to them at least until the next Christmas. And although there were only few students and teachers remining at Hogwarts, Harry saw their huge disappointment and their eyes saying "you destroyed Christmas."

Therefore now he was standing in the former dormitory of his never existing seventh grade with Hermione's time turner, on which she was working for several months now and he was taking another crazy decision in his life. How he hated it!

"If I'm not back in an hour, you can start freaking out" Harry finally said, looking at his friend with resignation.

"In an hour? But for me it will seem as no time passed, right?" Suddenly Ron seemed very interested in the matter of time continuity.

"Nevermind", said Harry, putting the golden chain on his neck. "Three turns should do it, right?"

Ron nodded and after a moment his friend was nowhere to be seen.

...

Harry looked around and was surprised to find that he was no longer in the Gryffindor Tower. Did something went wrong? He couldn't remember what it was like the last time he had the opportunity to travel in time, so he decided to just find the Christmas decorations before his own self from the future will have time to turn them into Pixies.

It seemed that this time there was only a handful of students remaining at the school, because the hallways were entirely empty. Harry felt a sting of jealousy at the thought of students who could and _wanted_ to go home, because someone out there was waiting for them. Though at times it seemed to him that he accepted what his childhood was like until his eleventh birthday and later on, when he had to go back to the Dursleys to spend holidays with them, he felt a twinge of sorrow somewhere deep inside. Apparently those children whostill were in school didn't have a home to go to, just like he. And instead of trying to somehow make their holidays better and enjoyable, he offered them a Christmas disaster.

When he was walking throught the Hogwarts corridors looking for boxes with Christmas ornaments and not paying too much attention to the environment, even though he had to be careful so that no one noticed him, a shadowy figure - immersed in its own thoughts just like Harry - emerged from a corridor on the left.

"I'm sorry", said Harry scared when he collided with a tal stranger. After all no one was supposed to see him!

The stranger didn't say a word - he just looked at Harry with a mixture of disgust and irritation in his eyes, and when it seemed that he will just pass by and go back to his own affairs, something caught his eye and he asked:

"Do I know you?"

Harry would have willingly answered this question, if his voice wasn't caught in his throat for several reasons. First of all – yes, they knew each other. Secondly – they didn't particulary liked each other, as the stranger was no one other than Tom Marvolo Riddle, still young and not snake-like, but rather charming and dark-haired. Thirdly - if Voldemort was standing before him, it meant that something had gone terribly wrong and instead of a few hours Harry moved about 50 years back in time, to the winter of his mortal enemy school years.

"Are you a student?" Tom Riddle became a bit more aggressive.

"I..." Harry said, trying to quickly come up with a plausible enough excuse, knowing at the same time that someone like the young Voldemort won't be so easily fooled. "I … I am ... the spirit of Christmas!", he cried at last, at the same time realizing how ridiculous the idea was.

However, Tom Riddle seemed quite contented and nodded, watching Harry closely:

"Spirit of Christmas? As in "A Christmas Carol"? You look a little... unusual", Tom added, throwing a curious glance at Harry's sweater, which portrayed the Hungarian Horntail as seen by Mrs. Weasley. "You came to tell me that I am a bad person and to show me sins, which I already have committed and how miserable fate awaits me?" Although the question was uttered in a serious tone, it was finished with a laugh and a laugh so nice to the ears that Harry felt a strange grief. Wasn't this boy a bit like him? He also didn't have a place and people to go back to when he was a child, and there was no place he could call a home beside Hogwarts, and yet their fates turned out so differently. "At first it seemed to me that you're not, so to speak, wholly from here. As if I know you, and yet had never met. As one remembers his dreams for a while after waking up. And as he sees the flowers on the windows in the winter night. Maybe Christmas spirits are also like that."

And although a moment ago it seemed to Harry that he was in a hopeless situation, suddenly an idea came to him. If he have already gotten into it all, he might as well try. What did he have to lose?

"Actually, you're right, Tom", he said, approaching Riddle a bit and seeing the surprise on his face. "Yes, yes, I know not only your name, Tom." It was nice to call him his true name just that one time. "And I can show you some interesting things if you want to."

"My future?", asked Riddle with some unhealthy curiosity in his eyes.

"Future, which may await you", Harry replied in the most mysterious tone he could afford. "You can judge yourself if you want it to become your fate."

_But it all already happened, Tom,_ he thought, and when Riddle wordlessly nodded, Harry - still in silence - headed down the stairs in search of class of Transmutation or rather Transmutation teacher study, hoping that he will find a very useful item there.

As they walked, saying nothing, Harry noticed that Riddle is really nervous - as someone who knows his sins. Harry wished he knew, which year it was exactly, because it would help him to conclude whether Riddle had already let the basilisk out of the Chamber of Secrets and whether he had the chance to kill his father and grandparents. To be honest Harry was surprised that he cared so much for this person, which had already been erased from his life.

Of course, Harry couldn't entirely get rid of the memory of Lord Voldemort. The scar on his forehead – though it wasn't annoying him for about half a year already, still reminded him with every look in the mirror about everything that happened - the death of his parents, the childhood on Privet Drive, Quirrel, re-opening of the Chamber of Secrets, exposing Peter Pettigrew, Cedric and Sirius' death, then Dumbledore's and so many other people dear to him. He remembered the little Teddy, who enjoyed his parents even shorter than himself, and yet more than Tom Riddle, a strange boy who was walking beside him.

Why did he care so much? Perhaps he was this hopeless typo of hero who doesn't know when they should finally leave the stage and give it a rest and start living like everyone else. Or maybe he was just a pretty good person? He really would have liked it better to see the face of Tom Riddle such as it was now and not like a snake-twisted and so inhuman one as it became in the future.

When they were walking in silence, Tom Riddle seemed so lost in his own thoughts, that he didn't even notice how intently Harry was staring at him. Was he also wondering who Harry really is? Or maybe he was just thinking of one of his crimes, fearing that it will be rebuked? Of course, he could be also thinking about something else, but Harry was sure that someone with face expressing not only reverie, but also loneliness and even some pain, may be able to chage. Maybe Tom Riddle really needed a spirit od Christmas to help him?

And as they went on, the moon illuminating corridors and showing them the way, they reached the first floor.

"Transmutation class?", Riddle asked surprised. "But ... why?"

"Well, the spirits of Christmas also need some magical artifacts. Maybe you think that I'm in the habit of hiding them in their pockets?"

"But...", Riddle paused, seeing that Harry is opening the door to the teacher's study. "Hey, wait, it's Professor Dumbledore's room!"

"I think he wouldn't mind borrowing us his Pensieve for a while", Harry replied cheerfully, seeing the said artifact on the desk, exposed, as if waiting for them. "For the greater good."

Tom lingered at the door for a moment, as if he wasn't sure if he wants to enter the teacher's study and if he wants to see what this self-titled Christmas spirit wants to show him.

"Do you think I'll just stand here all night?" Harry asked in a voice so squeaky that he was surprised with his own talent for acting. "You're not the only villain that I have to make over tonight!"

"All right, all right", Tom sighed, going to the Pensieve, in which Harry has already put some interesting memories from the future.

"Together", Harry said a little merrier, trying to add Riddle a little encouragement and before he realized what he was doing, he grabbed Tom by the hand.

_The turban sank back from Professor Quirrel's head and an inhuman face appeared, and after a moment it dissappeared with an eerie moan along with the body of their host._

_Old Frank went slowly up the stairs in an abandoned house somewhere in another part of England, and behind him a huge snake writhed. The door creaked and light from the fireplace lit up the deformed figure in the chair._

_The cemetery was lit only by stars and in the big cauldron something gurgled. Let it drown. Let it die. The figure in black, devoided of any signs of humanity, called his servants._

_Hogwarts in fire, quiet Forbidden Forest and bright another world with a weird kid in it. The last spell. End of everything._

Harry felt the ground under his feet once again and looked at Riddle, to see how he took this trip to the future that has already happened. And although he didn't entirely believe it will have any effect, he was wrong. Tom Riddle looked at him with horror in his eyes.

"Who are you?", he asked quietly, as if he didn't trust his voice. "Who are you really?"

"We already determined that I'm the spirit od Christmas, this Christmas, Tom", Harry replied, not knowing whether he should play for time or maybe try something else.

"Spirit of Christmas? Yes, I was inclined to believe it... But now I'm quite sure that you I know you. In this life. Or in the life that hasn't yet happened."

The room was silent. Outside the window the snow began to fall harder and the wind threw it against the glass.

"I know you in the future, right?", Tom asked and then answered himself: "Yes, it must be true. You're from the future. But why, when I look at you, I feel that we're not meeting for the first time? May I remember you from some other world, from another time?"

Harry remained silent, not wanting to give away feelings that suddenly began to embrace him with his voice. Who was this boy he had just guided through his worst memories? Why did he feel connected to him with something other than the already destroyed Horcrux, a strange magic, which he never knew existed?

"Who are you?", Riddle asked again. "Why did you come to me? Why do you care about me?"

For an unknown reason the last question somehow brought Harry back to his senses:

"Why do I care? You ask why, Tom? Because I want to help you, because we are the same.", Harry looked up and was surprised to find that Riddle is no longer puzzled or scared - he was _different_, as if that one sentence had a greater impact on him than anything else he had seen in the Pensieve.

"You are... my _friend_?" It seemed that Tom Riddle was saying this word with full understanding for the first time in his life. "My friend from the future? And you came from another time, the one you showed me, to change everything?"

_Well, I guess you couldn't be more wrong, Tom. It just happens that even half an hour ago, or rather in 50 years, we have not been, nor will we be friends, but here and now, in this time, we have become them. One winter night, when I accidentally made stand in the wrong moment in time._

"I cannot change it, but you can do so", said Harry aloud, but seeing the sudden resignation in Riddle's face, he added quickly: "Of course I will help you. Since it's what spirits of Christmas... and friends... are for.

He smiled at Tom, wondering again, how strange things went this night. And when Tom Riddle smiled back - uncertain, as if he didn't know how to do it properly, Harry came to the conclusion that Ron sometimes has – after all - good ideas.

...

**_AN_**_: The story was created under the spur of the moment and the combination of wintery thoughts and failed organic chemistry exam. There are probably some mistakes as I have written it really quickly, but I hope it didn't bother you too much. My sincere thanks go to Krysania, who persueded me to translete this story to English. It's an ordinary story, but I hope you all enjoyed it. Merry Christmas and may all of you meet such a wonderful Christmas spirit!_

_About the translation of Czeslaw Milosz's poem "Winter stand" – I made it myself, as there is no official translation of this particilar poem, so if you will ever like to use it somewhere, please mention my username. The translation is lacking, as I'm neither an English philology student nor a poet, but still I tried my best to capture the feeling._


End file.
